


Linked hands

by Lyrae



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bodyswap, M/M, Moriarty is Alive, Mycroft Holmes Has Feelings, POV Jim Moriarty, POV Mycroft Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25345081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrae/pseuds/Lyrae
Summary: When Mycroft Holmes and James Moriarty shook hands, the former accepting to exchange his brother's childhood for information on the criminal's web, they didn't expect to get thrown halfway across the room...And they certainly didn't think the next thing they would see once their gaze cleared was their own faces.
Relationships: Jim Moriarty/Holmes siblings (one sided, Mentioned) - Relationship, Mycroft Holmes & James Moriarty, Mycroft Holmes & Jim Moriarty, Mycroft Holmes/James Moriarty, Mycroft Holmes/Jim Moriarty
Comments: 5
Kudos: 53





	Linked hands

**Author's Note:**

> This is for a prompt on the Sherlock amino, bodyswapping!

Jim wasn't going to lie he had a  _ thing  _ for the Holmes siblings. 

The youngest was batshit crazy, even to his standards, but that made her even more interesting, with her too bright genius and her eyes that peered directly into his soul, Sherlock was Sherlock, pretty, smart Sherlock, with his wild curls and his cutting cheekbones, and the eldest… 

Well, Jim liked men in expensive suit - when they actually fit in them and were not one of the blubbering idiots he had to deal with on a daily basis - but Mycroft Holmes was the picture-perfect example of what pleased him, the pricy fabrics and tailored layers only adding walls between the cold man and the world. 

Anyway, James Moriarty knew very well that he had a thing for the Holmes and even if they responded differently to his flirting - winks and innuendos from Eurus, banter from Sherlock, indifference from Mycroft - he certainly hadn't thought he would get into the Ice Man's pants first… 

Now, if the situation had been any different, he would have been quite satisfied with himself, it wasn't everyday that one wooed the British government, but here was the problem :

Mycroft certainly wasn't wooed, and Jim would have much preferred being in his own pants - well, if he had had his pants at least, but in this situation his boxers would have been good enough - if it meant he would also get the rest of his own body back. 

"... What have you done? " 

Was there anything weirder than hearing someone speak with your voice and a different accent? It was certainly unsettling at least. 

"I would love to answer that Ice Man but I'm afraid I have nothing to do with whatever happened. " a deep baritone curling around the words, the sounds rolling on his tongue until they left his mouth, laced with an Irish accent. 

Jim winced and saw the expression mirrored on his own face, Mycroft apparently finding the situation as disagreeable as he did. 

\------------

Really, how the whole thing had happened, the criminal had no idea. 

He had let himself get caught by Mycroft's men, entering some black nondescript car with a smirk on his face, knowing the other man would be able to keep him for exactly eight weeks before his fail-safes started going off. 

It was a challenge in a way, one that he already knew he would win but had still proposed since the Ice Man would have no choice but to accept it, " _ can you make me talk within this time limit or will you give up your brother _ ", and Jim had willingly walked inside, knowing just how the next two months would go. 

And well, he certainly hadn't been surprised, Mycroft had delivered exactly what had been promised, waterboarding, electroshocks, drugs, everything to make him talk without permanently crippling him-

_ N _ _ othing had worked of course, Jim had stayed silent, immovable, and at some point even the Ice Man must have gotten bored because they had chucked into an isolation tank and left him in there for hours and days and w e e k s- _

Nothing had worked and in the end Mycroft had been forced to admit defeat and visit his prisoner himself, go down in the very bowels of the government to shake the devil's hand and sell his brother's soul… 

Well, at least that was how the situation had looked, and wasn't that just ridiculous? 

Jim was just going to ask him about Sherlock's childhood, it was quite innocuous wasn't it? Nothing that could be used to hurt him anyway. 

_ Truth always hurt though, especially when it was mixed with a few carefully chosen lies, but Eurus was still in prison, Mycroft was hidden beneath the ice and so if Sherlock didn't want him, he would have to burn.  _

Jim had still been dripping wet from his little stay in the tank -  _ he would catch a pneumonia if he wasn't dried soon, Holmes better gave him a damn towel at least unless he wanted a pissed, sick Irishman starting a war in some random country as a revenge-  _ and Mycroft had entered his little cell, glancing in distaste at the 'Sherlock's etched into the walls before sitting down in the iron chair. 

"It's a deal. " he had just said, his tone as cold and clipped as it always was, his whole being perfectly contained by his sharp suit and sharper manners. 

"Oh come on darling, we should shake on that at least! "

Jim had held out his freezing hand, and after a second, Mycroft's warm one had closed around his fingers…. 

And some sort of shock had went through their connected skin, sending them flying in opposite directions, violently colliding with the floor. 

\-----------

"You are the one that insisted on shaking hands." Mycroft remarked, leaning heavily on the wall to stand up. 

Ha, it wasn't easy to move after being forcefully kept immobile for days, was it? And Jim might have been just a little too satisfied when he saw the other shiver uncontrollably… Apparently the Ice Man wasn't as used to the cold as the criminal was, or maybe not as used to hiding his reaction to it at least. 

"What, you think I somehow managed to sneak in some experimental 'whatever-that-was' in your own cells?? You might not remember but I was quite occupied these last few days-" _weeks_? "It would have been difficult even for me. " Jim replied, the annoyance clearer in his voice than it usually was. 

His response did not appear to placate Mycroft and even if the man seemed a bit confused for a second, the look quickly disappeared, replaced by quiet fury. 

"Well then, how do you explain this? Do people usually spontaneously change body with a handshake? " 

Jim saw his body shiver again and he ignored the other's questions for an instant - it wasn't like he had any answer anyway - to take off his suit jacket and hand it to Mycroft. 

"Don't you dare get sick with my body, I would appreciate if I got it back in a good shape. "

Here, surely he would understand that it was for the best if they both stayed healthy as long as this situation wasn't resolved right? 

"I am  _ not  _ getting this wet. "

Apparently not. 

"If you don't put it on I swear I'll throw it on the ground and dance on it, I'm quite curious about the equilibrium of your body and that would be a good way to test it, wouldn't it? "

Mycroft reluctantly accepted the jacket. 

"And now what?" no trace of his earlier confusion was visible on his face, Jim might have been staring at himself, but there was only ice in the two black eyes. 

"Now I leave and I suggest that you come with me if you don't want my failsafes to go off… it would be quite a shame if capitals started blowing up after all, wouldn't it? It would also be for the best if you gave me back my things, including my phone, one of my bodyguard can be quite overzealous and he won't be happy unless he has some proof of my well-being. "

"You can't just walk around with my body, people will notice something is wrong if I'm not acting like myself just after I freed you of all people. "

unmistakablyJim smirked, his whole body language changing in a matter of a second unless he was  _ Mycroft _ . 

"What, you don't think I can fake it well enough?" He asked coldly, the words coming off with that posh accent the Ice Man usually used. "I am not the problem, I know how to  _ be  _ you, but can you be  _ me? " _

The other sneered, his now dark eyes shining maliciously as he answered in kind, his voice sounding exactly like Jim's always did. 

"Mimicking each other's mannerisms won't be the problem, what is bothersome is the fact that you don't know the classified information my colleagues will think you know, and I am no better when it comes to your network. I am afraid we really can't really meet anyone unless that situation is resolved. "

Well, he had pretty much understood that already… 

"What do you propose then? " 

There was only one thing to do, but would he accept it? 

Mycroft stayed silent for an instant, probably weighing his options, before speaking again.

"We both stay at my house in case my brother shows up, we stay out of each other's way unless one need to make a phone call for the other. Nothing we learn about each other during that period will be used by either parties and we will both work on resolving that situation as fast as we can during our free time. "

It wasn't like they really had a better option, anything else would be even more impractical… And well, at least Jim would get to see Mycroft's house with him this time! The Ice Man was probably aware that Jim had broken into his house a few times before but it had never been mentioned. 

"That would probably be the best thing to do… As long as you're not planning to use that situation to spy on my network, we have a deal, but if you do I won't hesitate to retaliate honey. "

"Deal then? "

"Deal. "

And for the second time of the day, they shook hands. 

  
  


\-------------

If Mycroft Holmes had to be honest, he would be forced to admit that living with Jim Moriarty, as Jim Moriarty, was a lot easier than he had originally thought. 

The criminal still acted like himself, the change of body certainly hadn't hindered his ability to be infuriating, but since he also needed to work and cooperate with him, he had apparently decided to be civil the moment they entered Mycroft's house and since then even the British government had had no real reason to complain. 

Sure, Moriarty never seemed to sleep for more than two hours at a time and the man seemingly had no idea what eating at regular hours - or just eating sometimes - was, but when it came to conversations, he really was unmatched. 

In a way, it was like talking to Sherlock without all of the childish quips and bitterness, only nice- and often heated- debates laced with teasing banter and a bit of flirting on the criminal's side… They also broached subjects that his brother would have turned his nose up to and called boring, politics, economics, the working of the world they both ruled. 

Working alongside someone that was smart enough to predict what he would say and made phone calls in his stead was something that he had never experienced, even with Anthea, and if the pleased expression on Moriarty's face was to be believed, he was quite happy with the deals Mycroft got for him too. 

Really, initially he had never thought this would function, the British government ruled by a criminal and the underworld dancing to the government's tune, but it worked out, didn't it? They kept their usual jobs most of the time, worked from the safety of Mycroft's house, just stayed out of each other's way while messaging their own side, but if they needed to make a phone call, they had no other choice but to ask the new owner of their body for a favor… 

At least that was what they had been at first, favors, but as their numbers kept increasing on both sides, evenly matching, they had just decided to do it for free. 

There really was no use keeping count at this point, was there? 

\-------------

"Nothing new I take it?" Mycroft asked when he saw Jim leave the laboratory now hiding beneath his house, the man frowning slightly as he sat in the sofa. 

"No, not yet. "

They usually worked on the issue of the body swapping together, but since their schedule was still pretty different, they sometimes searched while the other was doing something else… 

That was during one of these little alone sessions that Mycroft had discovered how to reverse their situation. 

It was easy really, and it was quite weird that they hadn't found that before seeing how simple it now seemed… 

Still, he had said nothing, he hadn't even tried to act by himself in order to get an advantage on the criminal-

He knew, of course he knew, that he would probably be able to deactivate the fail safes as long as he wore Jim's skin, he wasn't fully certain but the probability was high enough for the opportunity to be tempting, Mycroft could render the other virtually powerless, swap their bodies and then kill him. 

Yet, he didn't. 

He told himself it was in order to get more info, when he realised that was a lie, he tried to convince himself that he still needed more time in order to fully destroy Jim's networks, yet days turned into weeks and melted into months without him getting any closer to his 'goal '.

Oh, what had he gotten himself into? 

\-------------

Mycroft might believe Jim still didn't know, might believe he was the only one holding all of the jokers yet staying still, but certainly wasn't the truth. 

In fact, one James Moriarty had come to the exact same conclusion when the other had and he had found himself in front of that same dilemma, found himself lying through his teeth everytime Mycroft asked him if he had discovered anything new in order to postpone the end of their agreement. 

It was stupid really, and he knew it, but that didn't mean that he acted on his new found knowledge. 

Sure, he could beat Mycroft, but where would be the fun in that ? Even if he didn't kill him and kidnapped him, Mycroft Holmes wouldn't be Mycroft Holmes without… well, the whole 'England's government ' thing. 

So he stayed silent, stayed pliant, he might have flirted a bit too often for it to seem completely nonchalant, even if staring at his own face while doing so was pretty weird, but this type of opportunity certainly wasn't going to present itself twice, and who knew when Mycroft would figure out what Jim already knew… 

Was it bad to wish the other would never find out? 

Probably but that didn't mean Jim cared either way. 

\-------------

Their little arrangement had gotten to a point where they ate every meal together and spoke way more than purely necessary, the distance between them getting smaller and smaller until Mycroft would often be either right next to him on the leather sofa or even sprawled on the criminal himself. 

Neither man mentioned their weird position when their limbs were tangled, that quaint proximity and that even stranger ease they had with each other, but both were conscious that something in their dynamic had completely shifted at some point. 

Even making phone calls for the other had become a completely normal behaviour, Jim would speak to the prime minister for Mycroft while the other put a pancake in his plate, Mycroft would give instructions to Sebastian Moran while the criminal handed him a file, their very routines had melted, mixing, until they were indiscernible. 

A meeting though-

That was different. 

"I am supposed to meet with the CIA's director today. " Mycroft said casually, typing on his phone as if he hadn't said anything noteworthy. 

His little scheme didn't work in the slightest though, not like he had expected it to, and Jim immediately answered, his voice filled with exaggerated disbelief. 

"Wait wait wait, you need to  _ what?  _ You do realise you don't exactly have the right body right now? "

Well, he wouldn't be asking if that wasn't the case…

"Of course, and that's why you need to go as me. "

Jim shook his head, making his displeasure quite clear. 

"Nop. No, no way. Don't even think about it. "

"Why not? I'll go to some of your meetings if you need me to. " Mycroft offered, trying to convince the other. 

"It's not the same! I never show up as myself, you could act however you want and no one would know! Even my tiger would think I'm just too much into my character if you act weirdly, but the CIA's director doesn't want a random man who works for you, he wants  _ YOU  _ and you already met with him before, didn't you? "

He had a point, but Mycroft didn't doubt for one second that the other man would have no problem perfectly mimicking him after they stayed in the same house for weeks, observing each other… 

"Then call it a favor if you want, I will owe you but I absolutely need you to go. "

Jim's eyes sharpened when he heard the words, heard the way the sentence was formulated, and heard everything the other wasn't outwardly saying. Mycroft wasn't begging, but it was the closest thing to a plea he would allow himself. 

"Deal, but only if you let me meet Sherlock as you from now on. "

The older immediately answered, waving the proposition away. 

"What? Certainly  _ not!  _ He'll immediately notice that something is amiss! "

"What, you trust me to meet with CIA's director but not your baby brother? " Jim rolled his eyes, shaking his head in mock disbelief. 

"We both know that's not the same at all James, Sherlock is, as you just said, my brother, we might not always get along but he does know me-" 

"I bet I can fool him… But that's what you're afraid of, isn't it? You're afraid that I'll manage to make Sherlock think I'm you! "

Mycroft didn't deny it, simply because the other would immediately notice that he was lying, so he stayed silent instead, not even trying to assuage Jim's suspicions. 

"Speak with Sherlock? " he said after a while, acting as if he hadn't heard the criminals words "You'll go if you can meet with Sherlock afterwards then? "

A pause, another silence, then-

"Yes. "

And just like that, they shook hands again. 

\-------------

The meeting was supposed to take one hour, two at most… 

Jim had left five hours ago and Mycroft still hadn't heard anything from the other man. 

He wasn't worried for the criminal, why would he be after all when Jim was leading the other side of the chessboard, he wasn't worried for him because he had no reason to be, and since he certainly wasn't worried for the man of all people, his concerns must simply be for the well-being of his own body, right? 

Well, whatever may be the cause of his worry, that didn't change the fact that Jim had disappeared and still hadn't come back… He had tried texting his own phone after three hours - reckless, he knew, but no one was supposed to know James Moriarty's number so it wouldn't look weird if it showed up during the meeting - and the lack of response had only made things worse. 

While Mycroft preferred calling to texting, Jim was the complete opposite, so he must be extremely busy if he wasn't answering in two minutes… Well extremely busy or extremely unable to that was, and the only thing able to keep the criminal off his phone had to be death. 

Mycroft had caved in and called one Sebastian Moran in the end, the man was outside after all surely he would know if anything had happened to his body-

"The older Holmes? Oh he got shot in the Diogenes club. "

He _WHAT_ -

"What happened? " Mycroft asked, his voice way calmer than his mind. 

The reply was quick and nonchalant. 

"I'm not 100% sure, I could ask our people to look into that if you want? I think he was meeting some other big shot, which had to be the main target since I heard the man is dead. " 

"And Holmes? Is he dead too? "

_ Was James Moriarty killed in Mycroft Holmes' stead?  _

"He's in the hospital but I don't think it's that bad, from what I can tell his brother hasn't even been called-"

Of course he hadn't, if Mycroft called Sherlock every time someone tried to kill him, they would see each other a lot more than the younger preferred. 

"So I don't think it was lethal. "

Mycroft hung up after that, not even letting the sniper question him, and fell boneless on the couch. 

Oh god what had he done? 

\-------------

  
  


"You tried to kill me! " were the first words Jim uttered when he came back to the house, his clear eyes burning in rage even if the way he held himself was laced with weariness. 

"I did not." was the immediate response, calm and collected. 

"What, you told me to go to that one meeting, and weirdly enough I got shot! Don't lie to me. "

Mycroft shook his head, feeling annoyance quickly overtake his earlier worry. 

"And you think I would purposely kill my own body? I do want to get it back at some point, you know? "

If Jim had been able to attack him without damaging his own body with his actions, Mycroft had no doubt that he would currently be a bloody pulp on the ground… 

"Well, why would you care about your body if you could keep mine? You would just need to say that you're your own successor to your team and the amount of information you hold would convince them, plus, I'm sure Sherlock would actually believe you if you told the truth! " his lips twisted in mock amusement, his burning eyes betraying his true thoughts "Why would you need little ol' me then? "

Well, the criminal wasn't entirely wrong, he could have done it and got rid of the man permanently, but the fact was that he had NOT...

Just like he hadn't tried to get his own body back even though he knew how to. 

"Well, I am quite sure your tiger would be quite furious if he discovered what had happened… I can fool him with your help, but if he mentions something that I am supposed to know, I would still need you to fill me in. "

Jim arched an eyebrow, ' _ is that all? '  _ written all over his features, and Mycroft found himself speaking again. 

"Moreover, I have no interest in stealing your body, it isn't lacking in any way but I grew quite used to mine. "

The room was quiet for an instant, the tension almost visible in the air, but Jim ultimately broke the silence, the anger slowly seeping out of his eyes, replaced by exhaustion. 

"Well, I certainly hope you're not lying because the first I'll do when I next wake up is install more failsafes… " he trailed off, half falling onto the leather sofa. "And I will be meeting with Sherly, I filled my end of the bargain and got shot so you really don't have a choice. "

And after half mumbling these last words, the criminal passed out on the couch. 

\-----------\--

When Jim next woke up, he was still in the sofa - a fact that his entire body was currently cursing at- but someone had been nice enough to give him a pillow and tuck him into a blanket… which could mean one of two things, either there was an intruder in the house or Mycroft Holmes, of all people, had been nice to him. 

"Oh, you're awake. "

Speaking of the devil. 

"How long was I out? "

"A bit over 13 hours… I assume that was caused by whatever meds they gave you? "

Jim nodded, wincing when he stood up. 

The painkillers had stopped working apparently, and now he felt like his arm was being stabbed over and over again. 

"So, what happened during that meeting? " Mycroft asked offhandedly, handing out a glass of water and a few pills to the other. 

"Short version? We were speaking in the Diogenes club, guy comes into your private study, shoots your little friend right to the head, aims at me, doesn't account for the fact that I would throw your paperweight at his face and misses. The bullet goes through my arm, thankfully missing the sinews, and afterwards your security team final arrives and catches the guy, end of the story. " Jim flexed his fingers, looking at the joints move under his skin. "You shouldn't lose any mobility once it's healed if that's what you were worried about. "

Mycroft seemed ready to add something but he ultimately just looked the other way, standing up. 

"I see. "

And the room was quiet once more… 

But then the silence was broken an instant later when Mycroft spoke again. 

"I am glad that you weren't killed if that amounts to anything, and not only because I would have regretted the loss of my body, I hate to admit it but you are… not too bad half of the time. "

Jim's eyes widened, the man trying, and failing, to hide his surprise. 

If he had been drinking anything at the moment, the criminal was sure he would have ended up choking on the liquid and coughing out his lungs. 

"I guess I don't really want you dead anymore either? What am I even supposed to answer to that ?" 

Mycroft simply smiled, apparently enjoying how he had managed to fluster one James Moriarty with his words. 

"Well, it is agreeable to know that we won't try to kill each other in our sleep at least. " 

Jim shook his head, feeling the corner of his mouth twist upwards in response. 

It wasn't like they had actually tried to kill each other in the first place anyway. 

\-------------

A few weeks later, Jim Moriarty met with Sherlock Holmes. 

It was for a simple little thing he only needed to convince him to take a certain case, it would be a matter a few minutes and then it would he done-

Nothing really important in the end. 

Jim went, Mycroft's last minute advices still ringing in his ears, climbed up the stairs of 221b Baker street, greeted the doctor Watson when their paths crossed in the stairs, and entered the flat. 

Here he was, Sherlock Holmes, in all of his unbidden glory, sprawled in his chair with his violin tucked beneath his chin… 

He was as gorgeous as he always was, but for some reason the only thing Jim could see what the image of one Mycroft Holmes sitting all prim and proper, his features laced with annoyance. 

The two Holmes brothers really were different, weren't they? 

"What do you want? " Sherlock drawled, messing up his music on purpose. 

Jim idly twirled his umbrella, smiling pleasantly. 

_ Oh, this was going to be fun.  _

"I have something that might interest you brother dear-"

The detective interrupted him almost immediately. 

"I'm too busy right now, ask someone from your team of idiots, I am sure one will manage to see what you are too lazy to look for. "

"It's about Moriarty… "

No, it certainly wasn't, Mycroft and he had made sure not to mix their two businesses, but wasn't Sherlock's reaction just adorable? 

A skipped breath, a pause, the room silent when the man forgot to mistreat his violin for a second, and then a sneer, the poor instrument shrieking beneath the detective's thin hands. 

"Moriarty? So what? Why should that interest me? I haven't heard from him in months."

Didn't he sound like a petulant child? 

It was true that Jim had neglected Sherlock ever since he had gotten into this body… 

"Well, if you're really not interested, I guess I have nothing more to do here… Goodbye brother mine. "

Jim heard no answer from the other and he assumed that he would receive none, so he left as smoothly as he had entered, humming the Bach's fugue Sherlock had been playing before the man had started to butcher it. 

It was quite a shame to destroy such a piece, especially from a talented violinist like the detective… 

Jim felt bad for Mycroft who always heard his favorite pieces torn apart by his little brother. 

\-------------

"Did it go well? " Mycroft asked as soon as the criminal entered the living room, sitting on the sofa near where Jim had let himself fall. 

If he lied down and his feet ended up on the criminal's lap, no one said anything. 

"I guess. "

There was something weird in the way the words sounded but he let it go for the moment being. 

"And the case? "

"Oh, he said no but he will look into it… I might have said that I was behind the whole thing. " Jim said idly, looking at his nails to avoid seeing the other's reaction. 

"You  _ what? " _

_ Oops.  _

The criminal did not flinch, but he would have if he'd been a little worse at hiding his reactions. 

"It's just to motivate him you know !" He explained quickly " And he seemed upset that his new arch-nemesis hadn't contacted him in months… "

But contrary to what Jim seemed to believe, Mycroft was far from mad. 

"You think he's upset _now!_? He pouted for weeks after the pool stunt because he was unhappy you had mixed John into your private little rivalry!"

"He  _ was??  _ "

Well, after seeing Sherlock's reaction to hearing his name, Jim certainly didn't doubt Mycroft's words. 

"You should have kidnapped him, not the poor doctor Watson, he would have probably followed you just for the thrill… but what you did at the pool? You literally insinuated that he, the great Sherlock Holmes, was just someone to threaten and abandon. "

Jim laughed, or more exactly chuckled uncontrollably, holding his aching ribs. 

"Oh no, poor thing! "

_ Poor Sherly, that must have stung his ego quite a bit- _

It was at that precise instant that a very familiar voice echoed right behind them. 

"...Mycroft? "

_ Sherlock.  _

\-------------

  
  


"Something is wrong with him. " Sherlock had said to John once the doctor had come back, his brother long gone by now. 

"What do you mean? Did he say something? "

"No, and that's what's weird, he didn't sneer after I refused his case and he didn't even react when I insulted his team! The first instance was strange, the second even more, but you know what was even weirder? He must have thought I wasn't listening, but he whistled the tune I was playing when he was going down the stairs! " Sherlock had stopped for an instant, shaking his head before repeating "Something is definitely wrong with him. "

"Do you want me to come with you? " John had offered, his brows furrowing in worry, but Sherlock had immediately shaken his head. 

"No, I'm sure it's only one of his scheme to get my attention, there's no need, I'll be back in an hour at most. "

The detective had twirled on his feet and left the room, grabbing his scarf and his coat before confronting the outside world. 

\-------------

_ Mycroft wasn't alone?  _

That was the first thing Sherlock realised when he entered his brother's house and heard laughter coming from the living room. 

It was strange, hearing Mycroft laughing like that, apparently carefree and relaxed… 

What was even stranger though, was the way he spoke, the way his tongue curled around the words, so familiar and yet so strikingly different from his usual voice that the detective couldn't quite place it. 

The man with whom he was conversing was exactly the same strangely enough, Sherlock could recognise the tone, recognise the accent, but it just didn't fit together… 

He had heard that voice before, he was sure of it, but where -

Sherlock entered the room, not trying to hide anymore, and the answer was clear:

Moriarty. 

Jim Moriarty, with his feet on his brother's lap, Jim Moriarty, wearing an all too familiar expression that looked strangely alien on his face, Jim Moriarty, chuckling at something Mycroft had just said before nodding in acknowledgement. 

"Mycroft? "

Moriarty was the first to turn, the first to speak, and when he faced him, when he looked into his eyes, Sherlock could have recognised his brother anywhere, simply from the way surprise flickered across his features. 

"Am I interrupting something? "

Neither man moved, limbs still tangled, and after a second the detective spoke again. 

"When did this start? " had Moriarty really managed to fool him all this time? Had the man worn his brother's skin, plastered a mimicry of Mycroft's sneer on his face while Sherlock stayed blind to the truth. 

"A few days after your little escapade in Baskerville, you can count the weeks yourself, can't you brother dear? " 

If it wasn't for the last part, Sherlock could have believed it was Moriarty himself speaking, that one smirk on the criminal's face just fit so well that it was hard to remember his brother was hiding behind those dark eyes. 

  
  


Baskerville? 

But that had been months ago… 

"Did you look for a solution? You present yourself as the smart one Mycroft, is this all for talk? " he turned towards the criminal wearing his brother's skin "And what about you? You both have all the resources in the world, am I supposed to believe you're still stuck struck that way? "

The 'deer caught in the headlights ' look he got back from both Mycroft and Moriarty was so very strange on their faces, and yet so very telling… 

"Oh, you both know _ exactly  _ how to get back to your own bodies, don't you? " Sherlock asked, his voice more curious than condemning. 

' _You just don't want whatever you have right now to be over. '_ he meant, and everyone in the room knew he was right. 

"Sherlock, could you leave us please? I think James and I need to talk. " 

Mycroft's voice was incredibly soft, barely more than a whisper, but in the crushing silence encompassing the room, it shattered whatever semblance of calm previously laced with the very air. 

The detective glanced at his brother wearing his enemy's face, gazed at his enemy's huddled in his brother's skin, before turning on his heels and striding out. 

\------------

"...I take it you found out too? " Jim asked once Sherlock had left the house, the two men still tangled together. 

Mycroft was silent for an instant, but he ultimately nodded. 

"It took me around a month, I assume it was the same thing for you? "

Another silence, another nod. 

_ 'Now what? ' _ they both wanted to ask. 

"There's nothing stopping us from getting our bodies back… " Jim started, trailing off in the middle of his sentence. 

"Indeed, there isn't. " was the immediate answer, the words rolling smoothly on his tongue and drifting between them. 

Their eyes met, clashing for an instant before their gazes seemingly melted into each other as the criminal slowly spoke. 

"And there's nothing stopping us from continuing with our little arrangement afterwards anyway… It'll just be a bit easier to make phone calls… "

' _Oh_ . '

' _ Of course, now that they knew that they could live together, that they went along so well, there was nothing standing between them, was there?  _

"I think you might actually be right Mr Moriarty. "

Mycroft smiled and Jim answered in kind, grinning widely. 

"When am I not? "

And once again, they came to an arrangement, the universe twisting to fit their will. 

Once again, they shook hands. 

**Author's Note:**

> Note : Kismet's last chapter is still being written/edited, but I'm... Well... On another project right now so I'm not sure when I'll be able to post sorry for the delay >>
> 
> Anyway, I hope y'all liked this weird thing!


End file.
